It's Never What It Seems, Is It?
by digthewriter
Summary: HP/DM - Crime/Investigation/Auror Story. READ THE WARNINGS: (Dark themes, murder, double crossing, alcoholism, domestic abuse) - NOT between Harry/Draco. Story: Harry and Draco are Auror partners and they've been assigned on a case that's too close to home for Draco. Harry has to solve the case, while he's madly pining over Draco...and nothing is what it seems.


**Warning(s):** _**(Dark themes, murder, double crossing, alcoholism, domestic abuse) - NOT between Harry/Draco**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the Harry Potter universe. This little piece of fiction is written for fun. No profit is being made.**

* * *

**Title: It's Never What It Seems, Is It?**

* * *

Harry remembered his Christmas holidays with Hermione and Ron, they were full of joy. He missed the simple pleasures of being at Hogwarts and waking up to find presents from his friends and chatting up and eating up a storm.

His life now...was anything but that.

Opening his eyes with hesitation as a mild hangover was creeping up the back of his neck, Harry heard the rain splattering against the window. _Another perfect morning_. As the rain splashed, almost obliterating the view outside, Harry finally managed to leave his flat and headed to work.

Christmas decorations everywhere only added to his depression.

It had been five years since he and Ginny had broken up and _six_ years since he'd realised that he was madly in love with Malfoy.

Malfoy, who was going on a holiday to France with his fiancée for New Year's Eve.

Harry had stopped going to the Burrow for the holidays ever since Ginny had gotten a new boyfriend who wasn't happy to see Harry. At first, Harry only politely declined invitations by Molly and Arthur and ultimately, they'd stopped asking. As it was, he'd probably be spending Christmas day at the pub—unless of course there was an emergency, then he'd be at work.

The only thing he ever really looked forward to was spending his workday with Malfoy.

* * *

/*-/*-/*-/

* * *

Harry still remembered the day Malfoy had stumbled into the Ministry, and back into his life. He'd attended Auror Training in France while Harry and Ron were assigned in Germany. Harry had expected Ron to be his partner and was unpleasantly surprised when Malfoy ended up being his partner and Ron was partnered with someone else.

Harry remembered their first mission together. He was so annoyed for being with Malfoy that he was being careless. Malfoy had to save his life twice that time and he didn't even take credit for it. He had changed and Harry realised how stupid he'd been.

Now he went to work, day in and day out, with a giant crush on Malfoy and the man didn't even acknowledge his existence outside the work hours.

"Potter," Draco Malfoy greeted his partner that morning with the same attitude of brusqueness he had for the past few years.

"Malfoy," Harry replied. He tried not to stare at the cut right under Malfoy's eye but he couldn't help it. Why hadn't he just charmed it off? "Trouble?" Harry asked, unable to stop himself. He should have known better than to ask questions about Malfoy's personal life again. The last time he'd done that, a year ago, Malfoy had all but chewed his head off.

"I've just been…" Malfoy paused. "Aw, fuck it. Astoria called it off."

"Called what off?" Harry inquired.

"The engagement, the relationship—we had a bit of a nasty row and she threw a vase at me."

Harry laughed. He just imagined Malfoy's perfectly fragile-looking fiancée throwing a glass vase at him and Malfoy dodging it. It was a funny thing to imagine.

"Why keep the cut?" Harry asked when he had calmed down.

"Just a reminder of what was a long time coming. It's what I should have done ages ago and I didn't."

"What happened?" Harry asked. He was so curious to know. Of course he wanted to hear the words 'because I realised I'm in love with you,' but knew that that was a far-fetched notion.

"She just didn't—understand me," Malfoy said softly.

Their conversation was interrupted when the Head Auror, Douglas Cooper, came across them in the hallway. "Good, you're both here," he said. "Draco, I need to speak to you. Please come and meet me in my office as soon as you're settled. Harry, you too. I need to put you both on a case and I'm not sure if you'd be the right choice."

"Why wouldn't we be the right choice?" Harry asked.

"In my office," Cooper repeated and headed off.

Harry and Malfoy looked at each other, confused. Ten minutes later, they were in Cooper's office and Malfoy received the shock of a lifetime.

"Blaise Zabini has been murdered."

Malfoy sat—nearly crashed on the chair in the Cooper's office and Harry placed his hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "What happened?" Harry asked, shocked himself by the word _murder_.

"That's what we need to find out," Cooper replied.

"You will need to get to Bristol immediately. As you may know, Draco, Blaise Zabini and his wife Pansy lived in the Muggle part of Bristol so the local authorities were called in on the case. You will be going in as 'Special Agents' to investigate. Of course Pansy Zabini will know who you are, but you must not reveal yourselves to anyone else. You're there to conduct your own independent investigation." Cooper handed a file to Harry that detailed everything they had on the case.

"What happened?" Malfoy asked.

"They think it's a robbery turned to murder," Harry said, reading the file. Malfoy immediately grabbed the file from Harry.

"Their house wasn't protected by any wards, as no one would have known where they lived. Both Mr and Mrs Zabini's parents are deceased and they have no other family. The only person in the wizarding world who knew where they resided besides the Ministry would have been you, Draco."

"Do you think it was a Muggle?" Harry asked.

"That's the general consensus with our Muggle-wizard liaison in the Bristol police department. However, since they cannot figure out the case and the victim and the suspect are both wizards—"

"Suspect? I thought you said it was a Muggle robbery/murder case?" Malfoy asked

"At the moment, we don't have any concrete evidence, so everyone is a suspect," Cooper said with resolve. Harry nodded.

"Jones," Cooper said, staring back at his notes, "is the liaison, and the moment he realised that it was a wizard-murder case, he contacted the Ministry. As soon as you arrive there, the local authorities will be told to back off. They'll be notified that the Zabini family was part of the witness protection program and that Special Agents will be handling the case. Then the Aurors assigned will be dealing directly with Jones."

"The Aurors assigned, I thought it was going to be us?" Malfoy asked before Harry had the chance.

"I'm unsure whether or not you should be assigned to this case, Draco. You are too close to the family. We need someone who can keep a level head and—"

"My best friend was murdered, you _have_ to assign this case to me."

"No, I don't _have_ to do anything." Cooper turned to Harry. "What do you think?"

"I'm interested in the case and would like to lead the investigation, but I cannot do it without Malfoy. He knows them best. I know that you think his judgement can be clouded by emotions, but I believe otherwise." Harry glanced over at Malfoy, and was glad that Malfoy wasn't looking at him. He agreed with Cooper that Malfoy's emotions would get in the way, but he couldn't do that to him. Harry knew that if it were Ron or Hermione, he'd want to be involved.

"As you see fit, but you _are_ going to be the lead, Harry," Cooper said. "Draco, you have to remember that."

Malfoy nodded at Cooper then at Harry, adding a quick soft smile. He rushed out of the office to begin preparations for the journey. They would be required to stay there until the case was solved or marked 'unsolvable' and knowing Malfoy, he'd insist on staying until it was sorted out.

When Harry returned to his office, he saw Malfoy leaning against his desk. Harry wasn't sure if he was going to hurl or cry. Harry walked up to Malfoy and placed his hand on Malfoy's right shoulder, slightly squeezing it.

"If you don't think you can—"

"I can." Malfoy stood straight to look at Harry and Harry nodded in acknowledgement. He kept his hand on Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy's expression changed to apologetic and Harry smiled. Harry's hand slowly travelled to the back of Malfoy's neck and he pulled Malfoy into a hug.

"I'm here for you, whatever you need," Harry whispered as Malfoy's arms wrapped around Harry tightly.

"Thanks." Malfoy squeezed Harry lightly again before letting go.

Harry's heart was so fragile at that moment. He wanted to hold Malfoy forever, protect him, save him from the heartache. Harry had lost enough people in his life, and it tore him apart to watch Malfoy suffer.

* * *

/*-/*-/*-/

* * *

Harry and Malfoy travelled via the Floo Network to the Bristol offices of the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Law Enforcement. From there, they took a taxi to the small Muggle village where Blaise and Pansy owned a house.

"Why do they live all the way out here?" Harry asked. "I mean—did—" He didn't know what to say, or how to say it. He'd taken every opportunity to offer small touches of comfort, or wrap his arm around his partner, and Malfoy seemed to have allowed it to an extent. Every time he said something he deemed inappropriate or if Malfoy looked just a bit too sad, Harry would squeeze his hand, and Malfoy would squeeze it right back.

It was weird, but this was the most he'd ever touched Malfoy and Harry loved it—as twisted as this whole thing was.

"This was where Blaise's mother grew up and after all of her world travels, she'd retired here. She left the house to Blaise when she died and he couldn't find it in his heart to sell it. Eventually the magic from around here began to fade away and more and more Muggles started to move in. Pansy wasn't too thrilled about living amongst Muggles, but figured that it would be good for her image in the wizarding world." Malfoy had let go of Harry's hand by now and simply stared out the window.

Harry looked out as well. The houses they saw up the road all were some of the biggest houses Harry had ever seen. The 'village' that Pansy and Blaise seemed to be living in was probably one of the richest neighbourhoods in all of the UK. He was glad that Ron hadn't come around for this mission, as the houses there were more than what any Auror would have made in their entire lifetime. He hated seeing the bitter side of Ron's jealousy and was relieved to be missing it. After all these years, Ron still had chip on his shoulder.

"We are here," Malfoy said, his face tight and drawn.

The Zabini House was elegant, and had to be over a hundred years old. The windows were large, and the outside was painted in a colour that matched an expensive bottle of Shiraz. The private path that led up to the house curved smoothly to the front door. Malfoy had mentioned that Pansy liked throwing lavish parties, and the house definitely looked like a fantastic place to hold them.

"When was the last time you saw them?" Harry asked. Harry knew that Pansy and Blaise had gotten married right after the war when Pansy had gotten pregnant. That was nearly fifteen years ago.

"A year and a half ago," Malfoy answered. "It was Sophia's thirteenth birthday."

Malfoy seemed sad.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, knowing Malfoy was remembering something from the past. It could've been important to the case.

"That was the last party they'd thrown. The entire time, Pansy and Blaise had been upstairs fighting and I could see how sad Sophia was that her own parents were missing the party. I went upstairs to check on them and the door was locked, so I couldn't go in. I thought they were going to kill each other." Malfoy chuckled, forcing himself, as though he was very close to crying. "Blaise had retreated to himself over the past ten years. He never wanted to come and meet me for a drink. Even when I'd offered to come here instead of him coming to London."

"Why do you think that was?" Harry asked, but Malfoy didn't respond. He simply shrugged.

Local police in from the Bristol police department guarded the front entrance and demanded to see identification. Harry showed him the "Special Agents" badge he and Malfoy had been given and they were directly guided towards the 'person in charge' who happened to be the Ministry appointed 'Muggle-wizard law enforcement liaison,' Sebastian Jones.

Malfoy was looking around the house desperately. Harry reckoned he was looking for Pansy without letting on. They were soon escorted to the sitting room via a long hallway. The sitting room itself was lavishly decorated with a dark plum carpet and black leather furniture. Everything felt excessively wealthy and unnecessary. The Christmas tree was knocked over on the floor and bits of the tree decorations spread everywhere.

There, in the middle of the sitting room, was Zabini's dead body. Malfoy stared at him, stunned into silence. A photographer stood with his camera pointing at Zabini. A window was smashed, and tiny pieces of shattered glass were everywhere. An officer was carefully collecting it.

Shortly after they'd arrived, Jones told everyone to clear out the room.

Harry knelt down next to the dead body. Harry noted that though he _was _looking at a dead man's corpse, his body was still, oddly situated. Zabini's right hand was cut by a glass or a knife, and there was blood splattered around. It looked as though his body had been moved. Did the thief attack him and moved him? Shards of broken glass lay next to his hand. A bottle of Firewhisky lay empty beside him too, and another stain in the carpet that stank of it.

Harry looked up at Jones and asked, "Anything obvious?"

"Looks like he died quickly, no defensive wounds, must have been a surprise attack. The safe is down the hall and it's been emptied out. It is password protected—but it could have easily been opened with…" Jones paused briefly, "by you know what."

"How much is missing?" Harry asked and Jones said he didn't know.

"Where's his wife?" Malfoy twisted at his hands as he asked. They'd seen plenty of people in the house so far, but none of them were Pansy.

Jones led them through another hallway into the dining area. Pansy was sitting down, her hair a mess, looking as though she hadn't showered in days and didn't care about what she was wearing. She looked up at Harry and Malfoy with surprise, but remained quietly seated on her chair. Harry looked up at the policewoman guarding the room and asked her to give them some space. The woman glanced over to Jones, who nodded, and they both left, leaving Pansy alone with Harry and Malfoy.

"I didn't know you'd be coming," she whispered. Her breath reeked of Firewhisky and cigarettes. Malfoy scowled. He could probably smell it too; it was hard to miss. Harry wanted to reach over and touch Malfoy's hand again, offer him support, but he resisted. Pansy would get the wrong idea.

"We just want to talk. We've been sent to investigate." Harry decided it was better if he spoke instead of Malfoy.

"It's a Muggle crime," Pansy said.

"Since there are no suspects yet, and this _just_ happened—"

"I had to send Sophia away," Pansy said, crying, ignoring Harry.

"Where is she?" Malfoy asked, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"At a friend's. Her friend, Maria, she's seventeen; Sophia went to her house via the Floo Network. Otherwise, they were going to put her in Muggle social services. We told them that Maria's parents are my cousins."

"I'm sorry, Mrs Zabini," Harry offered and she glared at him. He looked over at Malfoy who smiled at him, as though he realised that at least Harry was _trying_. He let out a sigh of relief.

"What do you want to know?" Pansy said, her tone derisive towards Harry, then glared at Malfoy who still wasn't speaking.

"You found him this morning?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I came down—and he was—just lying there. Blood—everywhere. And the knife…" she paused, and Harry thought she was about to sob again. "I had to get out of there, I vomited in the kitchen sink."

"What exactly happened since the moment you woke up?" Malfoy's voice was calm and composed, it surprised Harry.

"I got up and realised he hadn't come to bed so I rushed to come downstairs. I didn't want Sophia…" she paused.

"You didn't want Sophia—_what_?" Malfoy asked. Her body twitched a little, in the most subtle manner, but Harry had caught it.

"I didn't want Sophia to wake him if he was still pissed at seven o'clock in the morning."

"He was drinking last night?" Harry asked.

Pansy looked at him as though the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yeah, a lot," she retorted.

"Why?" Malfoy asked.

"After we shifted _here_, everything was good in the beginning, but then Blaise started gambling," Pansy said. "We have been losing money, a lot, and he'd just picked up the habit of drinking and—" She twitched again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Malfoy asked. He reached his hands across the table and Pansy quickly grabbed them. Harry watched as Pansy's fingers gripped Draco's and Harry's chest tightened. He attempted to control his breath, to make sure they weren't aware of how he felt. He was jealous and wished it was his hand that Malfoy was holding, and then he felt a queasy sense of guilt.

"Last night he came home depressed again," she said.

"Depressed, how?" Harry asked.

"How do you think?" she exploded. "He came home and started drinking…and…"

Harry could see it now even if Malfoy could not. These were his best friends, his vision was blurred. The bitter, angry, man with a gambling problem, arrived home, poured himself a large one, shouted at his wife, perhaps even hit her, enjoying the only control he had. The control of another person weaker than him. There was no bruising on her, but Harry knew that abusers knew how to hide their work.

"Did he get drunk a lot?" Harry asked.

She scoffed, not bothering to answer the question.

"Was he already drunk when he came home?" Malfoy asked. Harry saw him as he returned his hands to under the table, now turning into fists.

Pansy calmed down when she answered Malfoy. This was his best friend she was talking about. She simply nodded reluctantly. "When he came home, I was afraid to argue with him so I handed him another drink, had him sit on the sofa and went to make him supper. I figured that was the best way to be out of his way."

"Then what happened?" Harry asked.

"The police were asking a lot about the robbery rather than what I made him for supper," Pansy retorted.

"We are just…" Malfoy was hesitant for a moment. "We are just trying to get a clear picture of everything."

"Then nothing happened. I left him with a bottle and went upstairs. I figured I needed to get out before he—"

"Before he…what?" Harry pressed.

"He hit me, alright?" Pansy snapped. "He can't Apparate to the bedroom when he's pissed, so he usually passes out on the sofa." Both Harry and Malfoy were silent for a few moments. "When he first began to hit me…" Pansy began talking again. "I used to try to use sex as a weapon. It didn't work, especially since he was already too far gone. I did—I let it happen to me because—I was protecting Sophia. I could never let him be around her when he was so—"

"You said you went in the kitchen," Harry said, and Malfoy glared at him.

"Yeah?" Pansy replied. "To cook."

"The murder weapon was one of your knives…"

"I didn't—"

"Pansy, no one is saying—"

"You said he was violent," Harry said.

"Potter!"

"You were afraid he was going to hurt your daughter…" Harry pressed on.

"That's enough, Potter."

"Aurors, you should come see this," Jones said, walking back into the room.

Malfoy didn't even _look_ at Harry. They returned to the sitting room near the broken glass and Jones pointed out that there were burnt cigarettes outside the window along with vomit. Whoever had broken in, killed Zabini and stolen from the safe, had _apparently_ vomited outside the window.

"This doesn't mean anything," Harry said; his number one suspect was still Pansy.

"It's enough to indicate that there could be someone else," Malfoy argued.

"I think we should call it a day," Jones intervened. "We've set you up with a room at the local inn. I'll take you there." Harry nodded and left the house with Jones as they waited outside for Malfoy who was saying his goodbyes to Pansy. He joined them a few minutes later, still not making eye contact with Harry.

Things only got worse when Jones dropped them off outside the inn, because when they entered the room, they'd realised that it only had one bed. It must have been a mistake. Jones simply reserved the room; he wouldn't have gone in to check. It was too late to call him to return and the reservations weren't in their names, so they could not ask the front desk to change.

"I can get my own room," Harry said, after Malfoy had closed the door behind them.

"There's no need, Potter," Malfoy said and placed his suitcase on one side of the bed. He was _still_ avoiding all eye contact with Harry.

"I'll shower first, then," Harry said and Malfoy shrugged without looking at him. Harry felt his heart sink into his stomach. The last thing he wanted was for Malfoy to discard him in such a manner. He closed the bathroom door behind him, his thoughts still with Malfoy. He entered the shower and allowed the warm water to try to shed away his stress.

Harry wrapped a towel around himself, and headed back into the room to find some clean clothes. He saw Malfoy sitting in his boxers, sobbing. Harry quickly ran towards Malfoy and placed his arm around him as he sat on the bed. Malfoy immediately leaned into Harry's embrace.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I am so sorry."

Malfoy tightened his grip around Harry's waist and leaned in closer. Harry held him strongly, kissing the top of Malfoy's head, unsure of what to do, how to comfort the man he was so madly in love with. Malfoy's tears were trickling down Harry's shoulder when he felt as though Malfoy had just kissed the curve of his neck, right above his collarbone.

Harry stiffened. He wasn't sure what he'd felt was accurate. He slowly caressed Malfoy's back and Malfoy kissed him again.

Harry ran his hand through Malfoy's hair, who looked up to meet Harry's eyes. The soaking grey eyes made Harry's heart melt.

"Draco," Harry whispered and Malfoy leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

Harry knew he shouldn't have kissed Malfoy back. He was vulnerable and not in a good emotional place, but he couldn't help himself. His body betrayed him as his arms only tightened around Malfoy and his tongue longed to taste him.

Harry broke the kiss a few moments later; his head had finally caught up to do the right thing. "Draco, I don't think this is a good—"

"I know you want this, Potter," Malfoy said, interrupting Harry. "I _need_ this right now. Please, Harry."

Harry nodded and kissed Malfoy again. He soon pushed Malfoy on his back and removed his boxers, pulling his own towel off next. He didn't think Malfoy would be hard. Harry had no idea that Malfoy could ever be with a man and he didn't know what to think.

"I have been with men before," Malfoy said. He must have read Harry's surprised expression. Malfoy removed the cover off the bed and got under it. "I just want—"

"I understand," Harry said. Harry got under the covers as well and soon their lips met again. Harry held Malfoy's erection in his hand and began to stroke it gently. His other hand was reaching down to touch his own prick when Malfoy touched him, causing him to gasp. Malfoy's hand was cold but Harry loved feeling it. Harry had never wanted anything more; he just hadn't expected it to happen like this.

Malfoy let out a soft moan as Harry moved his hand up and down his shaft swiftly. The room was quiet and the only sound released was their moaning. Harry felt a heat rise in his stomach every time Malfoy thrust Harry's cock. Gradually, Harry sped up his thrusts and Malfoy did the same. It wasn't long until they both came in each other's hands, sweat trickling down Harry's back.

"You're so beautiful, Draco," Harry spoke as he whimpered when Malfoy kissed his neck.

Harry was nervous, about everything, but he did his best of not showing it. He let go of Malfoy's spent cock and wrapped his arm around him, pulling him towards Harry, their feet, intertwined. Malfoy smiled against Harry's lips and kissed him again. A few short moments later, Malfoy broke apart from Harry and reached behind him for his wand. He spelled them and the sheets clean. "This might be better," he said as he pulled Harry back into an embrace. It wasn't long until Malfoy fell asleep.

Harry never wanted to let go of that moment. He'd waited six years for it, but he knew it would be quickly passing. The next day they'd be expected to get back to the case, back to reality. Harry was sure that Pansy had killed Zabini, and Harry would have to show Malfoy the evidence.

Things would never be the same again.

* * *

/*-/*-/*-/

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke up before Malfoy. Malfoy had turned around and Harry had his arm around him and was spooning him. Harry listened to Malfoy's even breaths for a while until he quietly and carefully got out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower again.

They had a long day ahead.

"Potter?" Malfoy said as he stood outside the door, gently pushing it open.

"Yeah?" Harry replied.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Harry answered, anxious beyond all reason.

Harry thought that Malfoy was asking about coming in to use the toilet. Harry didn't think Malfoy would ever be that brazen, but a few seconds later, Harry found a stark naked Malfoy with him under the shower. Malfoy leaned in and kissed Harry and whispered a "good morning." Harry grinned back and they repeated the activities from the night before standing up under the running water.

Harry was still nervous about what was happening between them, but he didn't bother asking Malfoy what it all meant. For all he knew, it was all going to be over soon. Odds were severely against this _thing_ working out with Malfoy. Harry was going to charge Malfoy's best friend with the murder of her husband, Malfoy's engagement had just been called off, for all Harry knew, he was a rebound.

Jones arrived at the inn at nine-fifteen in the morning to take them to breakfast then back to the crime scene. Zabini's body had been sent to the morgue, but the rest of the scene was still intact.

At breakfast, Jones sat across the table from Harry and Malfoy. Malfoy's knee kept bumping into Harry's and their arms casually brushed. Harry was having a difficult time breathing. During the course of the meal, Malfoy would casually hold Harry's hand under the table as he talked to Jones.

Harry didn't hear a word either one of them said.

When they returned to the Zabini house, Jones suggested that the best place to start their investigation with would be the house across the street. Everyone else seemed to be away for the Christmas holiday.

Harry and Malfoy knocked on the door of the house that was directly across the street from Pansy and Blaise's. A woman, probably in her fifties, with white hair and blue eyes that wrinkled on the corners answered the door. She was holding two cats in her arms.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Hello, we are here to investigate about the murder that took place in the house across the street. Do you think you have a minute to talk to us?" Harry asked.

"I already told the police everything I know," the woman answered.

"Yes, but we are from a different branch. It'll just be a few questions," Harry insisted. She nodded and let her cats go in the house as she came out of the door to speak to them. They sat in her garden on one of the benches. It was oddly warm for pre-Christmas weather, the sun was shining brightly and Harry thought Malfoy's hair gleamed in it.

"What may we call you?" Malfoy asked politely.

"Ertha," she said. "Ertha Wilmington." She glared at the two of them and Harry was immediately nervous. He wondered if she could tell something about them—were they obvious? "When can I see Pansy and Sophia? I want to make sure they're alright."

"I am sorry, they're not allowed visitors at the moment," Harry replied. "Do you know what happened two nights ago?"

"I reckon he's dead," Ertha replied with disdain. Malfoy snorted. They had just said they were there to investigate a murder.

"Did you know Blaise?" Malfoy asked.

"Know him?" She scoffed. "I heard him, that's about all."

"Was the marriage happy in your opinion?" Harry asked. He didn't dare turn to look at Malfoy for his reaction.

"I suppose, she stayed with him didn't she?" The woman scowled for a moment. "It wouldn't be my cup of tea, but how do you decide which relationship is happy and which isn't?"

Harry gulped. Draco was with Astoria for four years. He thought they were happy and Astoria seemed perfect.

"Why do you say that?" Malfoy asked before Harry had the chance.

"Well, I am sure you can only imagine. In the summer time, it was quite frustrating. To sit outside in the terrace and be able to hear," she answered. "Even with the windows shut, that poor child, what she had to live through."

"You mean Sophia?" Harry asked.

"No, you fool, I mean Pansy!"

Harry and Draco stared at each other.

"You could hear the shouting matches go on for hours, and then everything would be dead silent." She sighed, looking at the garden then over to the house, then at the two Aurors. "The next day no one would leave the house and I'd go over and knock, to make sure everything was alright, and she would be worried—all jittery as though a secret was about to get out and she had to bury it!"

She shook her head as she paused again. Harry let her be, he could see her guilt for not doing more. "I wanted to call the police, but I didn't. I should have. I should have…" she sighed.

Harry was about to ask another question, but she continued talking.

"It was obvious that he'd beaten her and didn't want her to go mouthing it off to anyone that would listen. She was such a jittery little thing. He had to make sure she was home under his control! I can't even imagine what Sophia must have been going through. She's been gone most of the year, some private boarding school in Scotland, but she's here in the summer—suffering through it all."

"She's with a friend now, she's safe," Malfoy assured the older woman. Shortly after, Harry and Malfoy thanked her and left.

Harry and Malfoy spent the afternoon going from door to door to talk to the neighbours. Most of them were away for Christmas holidays, the few that they did manage to find, said the same thing. They heard shouting, screaming matches at all hours of the night. Even in the summer when the daughter had returned from her boarding school. At the market, Pansy always looked afraid. She didn't talk to her husband in public and the daughter would always look cross.

"Do you think he deserved it?" Malfoy asked, his voice shaking. "He beat her, and she finally had had enough?"

"If she did it, it makes her a murderer. She could have easily left him—come to you—"

"It's not that easy," Malfoy said.

"I know, it never is," Harry answered. When they approached the house, Harry spoke again, "I think we should talk to Sophia next." Malfoy agreed.

Pansy was under house arrest and the local authorities were keeping guard. The Aurors got the name and address of Sophia's friend from Pansy and decided to go see her the next day. They thought it would be best to give the young girl some room to grieve.

In the early evening, Harry contacted the Ministry via the Floo Network and spoke with Cooper.

"How is Auror Malfoy doing?" Cooper asked.

Malfoy was not with Harry at the moment. He was writing up the report of everything they'd gathered. He was with Jones in the other room.

"He's alright, doing well actually. Handling it a lot better than you'd suspected," Harry answered.

"Don't get your own emotions involved in this, Harry," Cooper said. Harry didn't respond. "So you really think the wife did it?"

"It looks like it. The nosy neighbour claims she can hear everything that goes on in the house across the street, so if a thief had come in, broken the window, and killed a man, she would have heard it. She also spoke of suspicions of domestic abuse. I've asked Jones to look into it with the family Healer to see if Mrs Zabini ever came in with broken bones, any evidence of unexplained falls—"

"When do you interview the daughter?" Cooper asked.

"Tomorrow. Hopefully she'll be able to shed more light on the case," Harry answered. Cooper asked a few more questions and they ended their connection.

At the end of the day, when Harry and Malfoy returned to the inn, Malfoy all but pushed Harry into the room and locked the door behind them. Harry was happy to be receiving all this attention from Malfoy—all of his wildest dreams were coming true—but he stopped.

"Malfoy...Draco, maybe we should talk," Harry said. It was the first time they'd been alone all day. Harry wanted to know how Malfoy was doing emotionally.

"Talk about what?" Malfoy asked, kissing Harry's neck as he pushed him against the closed door and began to unbuckle the belt on Harry's trousers.

"Your friends," Harry said and Malfoy stopped. "Everything, what you're going through, your break up—this—as much as I want this, it isn't exactly healthy."

"I don't want to talk," Malfoy answered and turned around to walk away.

"Draco." Harry went after him. He wrapped his arms around Malfoy's waist who tried to free himself, but Harry held on tightly. "Don't push me away like this, don't shut me out, please." Harry kissed the back of Draco's left ear and then left a trail of kisses around his neck. Draco moaned.

"Don't do this to me, Potter. Don't turn me on and then retract like that. I've been so—"

"So what?" Harry asked, turning Malfoy around to face him. Malfoy's erection pressed against Harry's thigh as he bit Harry's neck.

"So horny all day," Malfoy whispered in Harry's ear, and his hot breath left Harry shivering.

Harry knew, he could _feel_ that Malfoy was avoiding every emotion, every anxiety and seeking out sex. He wanted Malfoy to talk to him; he wanted to comfort Malfoy. Unfortunately for Harry, his body was betraying his sense of responsibility.

Harry grabbed Malfoy's waist and pulled him, his own erection pushing against Malfoy's, making them realise they had way too many clothes on. "You promise, we will talk? Not now, but we will?" Harry said and Malfoy nodded. Harry pushed Malfoy on the bed a few seconds later, and got on top of him.

* * *

/*-/*-/*-/

* * *

Only fourteen, Sophia was a heavy drinker, Harry could smell the stench of Firewhisky on her clothes in the hamper. She had a private room at her friend's home. With both your parents being alcoholics, it isn't that hard to find a good stash of your own. Since Pansy was such a drunk herself, she probably never even knew.

Calm blue eyes stared at him as Harry introduced himself. Sophia leaped in and hugged Malfoy.

"Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?" Harry asked when Sophia and Malfoy parted and Sophia sat on her bed holding Malfoy's hand. A bit too tightly, Harry noticed, but let it go. The girl was probably grieving and needed a father figure for support.

"I don't know what I can say to help, my father's dead." She sniffed and rested her head on Malfoy's shoulder.

"Did you hear anything odd the night of your father's—"

"Yes, I heard the window crash," she answered. "I didn't know what it was at that time."

"What time was it?" Draco asked.

She lifted her head and looked at him. "I don't know."

"Did your parents have an argument?" Harry asked, feeling that her words and actions didn't match; he was getting annoyed at her _acting_.

"She was always on him! Accused him of having affairs, and always started the fights." Harry was shocked by the sudden change of attitude. "She drinks all the time, and by the time he got home, she was always out of it! She always talked about not having money, how she always wanted _stuff_. She has to change the furniture every season and has to always buy the best things!"

Sophia continued talking animatedly, gesturing with her hands. "My father was losing money. I was in a private school before Hogwarts, and then he couldn't even afford to buy me the first edition of the books or brand new robes._ She_ has money, but she never wanted to use it for me!"

Malfoy looked horrified as she continued talking. Harry knew what he was thinking; it's the same thing anyone close to Harry had thought. 'How could I not see it?' It's the people that are closest to you—that think they know you best—that don't know about the abuse.

"What do you think happened that night, Sophia?" Malfoy asked.

"She killed him. All that stuff about a robber, that's bollocks! She was pissed and went after him with her own knife!"

"That's a very strong statement, Sophia," Harry said.

"Come on! She was always pissed. Almost out cold on the sofa when I would get home. She could barely make it upstairs. I had to help her, always. I couldn't even use magic to do it." She sighed and looked at Malfoy. "Poor dad, he was late home again, not back until eight or so. She told me not to say anything, told me to support her story about the Muggle thief. A Muggle thief!" She exclaimed. "I really loved him, my poor dad."

Harry gave the girl her sympathy for a moment. He stood up and nodded and began to walk away.

"Wait, what'll happen to me?" she asked.

"Well, you'll return to Hogwarts soon, then in the summer you'll probably be under the Ministry's protection," Malfoy answered.

"You mean I'll be in a Ministry home?" she snapped. "Why can't I just stay at my own home? I can take care of myself!" Her voice had an edge of panic. Harry left the room without answering her; he wouldn't even know what to say. He'd been the Triwizard Champion at fourteen, he'd seen Cedric Diggory murdered at that age. He was sure that the girl could take care of herself, but he wasn't her parent or guardian. Neither was Malfoy.

When Harry and Malfoy returned to the Zabini residence to speak to Jones, he said he had more information for them.

"I talked to the Healers like you suggested," Jones said.

"You did what?" Malfoy was confused.

"I suggested that Jones contact the family Healer and see if there were any reports on abuse or falls," Harry answered.

Malfoy turned to Jones and spoke. "What does the report say?"

"She didn't have any falls, no signs of abuse. We checked Sophia's records too, there was nothing. It was actually Mr Zabini that came in with bruises and broken bones. He had to use the Floo Network to contact the Healer because he was too weak to Apparate." Jones continued talking as Harry and Malfoy stared at each other. Shock on both of their faces.

They rushed to enter the house. "Let me talk to her," Malfoy said. They entered the dining room where Pansy was sitting, drinking.

"Pans," Malfoy began. "I know that everything you said to us yesterday was a lie." Malfoy's voice was harsh. Harry noticed he was in full Auror mode, without the extra softness as he'd shown towards her previously. He treated her like she were a stranger. "You're a witch, how could you not have known if a Muggle thief came in your house and killed your husband?"

Pansy didn't say anything.

"Sophia's confirmed with me—with us, that everything you told us was a story. The fact that Blaise hit you was also a story. I know you, Pansy, I used to date you, remember? You introduced me to Astoria - who learned how to throw a mean right hook from _you_. You made up the whole story to conceal your crime of killing Blaise, because you were too drunk."

"It's not true!" Pansy began sobbing.

"Yes, it is. Your neighbours heard you having a row and you did a good job making them think you were the victim," Harry said. He could see how difficult it was for Malfoy.

Pansy continued crying. "There's no other suspect," Harry said. "The Muggle police are going to run a fingerprint on the knife, they'll confirm who it belongs to—"

Before Harry could continue, Pansy confessed.

She was in the kitchen when Blaise had arrived home and he was unhappy to see her drunk again. One thing led to another and she stabbed him. It wasn't until she woke up in her own bed, thinking it had been a nightmare, that she realised what she'd actually done.

Malfoy looked as though he didn't want to believe her. His face showed agitation as though he wanted to grab Pansy by her shoulders and tell her to deny it all. Say that she was the one that was abused. Harry placed a charm on Pansy to keep her restrained to the chair while Malfoy and Harry contacted the Ministry via the Floo. Jones was also stunned speechless.

They placed wards around the house and locked Pansy in her bedroom. Malfoy and Harry had to talk it out, then take Pansy and Sophia to the Ministry to charge Pansy with the crime and have Sophia offer her testimony. Jones had left via the Floo in the Zabini residence to collect Sophia.

"She killed him because she was drunk, no other reason," Malfoy uttered, devastated.

"After abusing him for years," Harry added.

"Why did he let her?" Malfoy asked.

"Why did you let Astoria punch you and just walk away?" Harry asked. Malfoy didn't respond. "He loved her. He was a man, how could he admit that he couldn't protect himself from his wife?"

"He could have defended himself," Malfoy argued.

"Maybe he tried. There are only so many defensive spells one can cast," Harry said. "Eventually, he gave up and just took the abuse. He couldn't hit her back. Could _you_?" Malfoy shook his head despairingly. "She was so drunk, she didn't even remember breaking the window or throwing up. Wait!"

"What?" Malfoy asked.

"I didn't ask her about the vomit!" Harry exclaimed.

"Why does it matter now?" Malfoy looked confused.

Jones had returned with Sophia and all of her luggage. She looked most displeased.

Harry told Malfoy to get Sophia and meet him in the kitchen. He ran to the bedroom to collect Pansy. Malfoy followed his orders.

"So when did you get ill?" Harry asked Pansy as Draco entered the kitchen with Sophia and had her sit down on the table as well.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about," Pansy replied. "You've got my confession, now just call the Ministry." Pansy looked at Sophia who was simply staring at the table.

"You said when you got downstairs in the morning, you threw up in the kitchen sink," Harry said and Pansy nodded. "Did you also vomit when you broke the window in the sitting room? And why did you throw your own cigarettes there if you were blaming the crime on someone else?"

"I don't understand," Pansy said. Harry looked at Malfoy who looked as though he'd caught on.

"You'd said it yourself," Malfoy turned to Sophia. "You said that she was so drunk she was on the sofa and you had to help her up in the room. That your poor dad had come home late!"

Sophia had panic all over her eyes.

"You mother didn't kill your father," Harry said. "You did, Sophia."

"I—" Sophia struggled.

"Sophie-don't say anything," Pansy declared.

The Aurors spelled both Pansy and Sophia silent. Malfoy was angry like Harry hadn't seen him in a very long time. He was afraid that if Pansy even twitched, he would cast an _Incarcerous_ on her.

They contacted the Ministry telling Cooper that they were returning right away. Harry thanked Jones for all of his help and asked him to bring their things from the inn to the Ministry with him. He would also need to testify.

The mother and daughter eventually confessed when they were interrogated separately.

The Muggle forensic technology confirmed that the DNA on the smoked cigarettes outside the window along with the vomit belonged to Sophia, not Pansy. Even the handprints on the knife were Sophia's. The forensic department also confirmed that Blaise didn't have any alcohol in his system. Pansy's story about Blaise being drunk and starting a fight was also a lie.

Pansy eventually told Malfoy that when she woke up she'd seen what Sophia had done and vowed to protect her daughter.

Harry had spoken to Sophia. Cooper thought it'd be best if Malfoy stayed away from interrogating his best friend's murderer.

Harry reported that Sophia hated Blaise because she thought he was weak. He couldn't stand up to Pansy, so she when Pansy woke up to find her husband dead, she claimed to Pansy that she'd taken him out of his misery.

Harry and Malfoy arrested Sophia for murder and Pansy for perverting the course of justice and assisting an offender. Eventually the Ministry let Pansy go, but not before sentencing her to two years of community service and attending meetings for drug and alcohol rehabilitation. She was to be placed in a Ministry appointed flat where she was required to check in with her guardian three days a week.

Sophia was sentenced to a Dementor-free Azkaban sentence of six years—a light sentence because she was a minor. Her case would be re-evaluated when she turned twenty.

/*-/*-/*-/

After the rushed mother-daughter trial due to the Christmas holidays, Harry and Malfoy finally had a moment to breathe. Malfoy thanked Harry for his patience and support.

"Of course," Harry said. "You're my partner; I'm here for you, Malfoy." Harry smiled and bid his goodbye with a "see you tomorrow at work." He didn't know what he could or couldn't ask of Malfoy.

"Are you doing anything for New Year's?" Malfoy asked.

"No, I reckoned, I'll just be on Auror duty," Harry answered. He figured he'd give Malfoy room to figure it all out. To cope with what had happened. "Or getting pissed at the Leaky."

"Do you want to spend it together?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Malfoy's question. "I mean, you've already told me you haven't got other plans. I thought—maybe—"

"I didn't think you'd want to—I mean you've just gotten out of a relationship, and what happened in Bristol, it shouldn't have happened the way it did. And I don't want to push—"

Malfoy laughed. "You heard me when I said that Astoria had a mean right hook…" Malfoy paused and Harry nodded. "She didn't always hit me; she only hit me when I was breaking it off with her." Harry looked confused. "I know I said she left me, but, it was a _mutual_ decision, you could say."

_Oh_, Harry thought.

"She hit me because I told her that I wanted _you_." He chuckled. "It was the only time, otherwise Astoria is a gentle soul."

Harry didn't say anything. He only stared at Malfoy. What did he expect him to say?

"What happened in Bristol would have happened if Blaise hadn't been murdered. If I hadn't been heartbroken over the thought that Pansy had killed her husband...it would have happened if we were sent somewhere else to investigate a curious case of necromancy."

Harry continued to stare at Malfoy. Processing the words. "You looked so happy with her and she with you."

"I had to pretend to be happy, so I wouldn't show how much—"

"How much what?"

"How much I wanted you...I still do." Malfoy paused, looking guilty. "The reason I was—the reason I said I didn't want to talk then was because I know what had happened was horrible. But you were my only source of happiness. I felt guilty not because my friend was murdered and I was using you—but—because I used it as a way to be with you."

Harry didn't know what to say. What Malfoy had said was twisted. If he'd ever tell this to Hermione, Harry was sure that she'd talk of how Malfoy manipulated him. But Harry knew, that he had also, somewhat used the situation to get closer to Malfoy. He was willingly getting manipulated.

"Does that make sense?" Malfoy asked, his face twisted in a way as though he was trying to read Harry's thoughts.

Harry laughed. "I don't completely understand, but as long as it means that you still want me—I'll take it."

"So about spending New Year's Eve together—?"

"How about we start tonight?" Harry asked before Malfoy could finish his question. Malfoy immediately pulled Harry towards him and he didn't seem to care that they were in the Ministry hallway. Harry kissed Malfoy with the passion he'd been holding inside him for so many years. Everything came pouring out and he didn't care if he were to get sacked the next day for violating any Ministry policy.

Malfoy was his at that moment and he belonged to Malfoy.

* * *

/*-/*-/*-/

* * *

Two years later, Harry was in the Muggle shopping mall looking for the perfect Christmas present. He'd planned on proposing to Draco on New Year's and was desperately in the hunt for a ring. He came out of what seemed like the tenth jewellery store when he literally bumped into someone he didn't expect to see ever again.

"Potter!" Pansy exclaimed, looking delighted.

"Pansy," Harry said. He felt oddly guilty. "I hope you are well."

"I am, thanks," she said. "I hoped to see Sophia in Azkaban, but she won't allow me to visit her."

"I'm sorry," he answered. She looked healthy yet defeated. Against his better judgement, he offered to buy her a cup of coffee and took her to the closest café.

"I still don't know why she did it," she confessed to him as she sipped her café au lait. "I haven't touched a drop since, you know."

Harry smiled at her. He supposed he should look proud. This was something Pansy should have been telling Draco, not him.

"Why did she do it? Why not me?" she asked.

"I think she despised him for his weakness," Harry said. "She used to help you both get into bed, and eventually had had enough, I think."

"I never understood, how did you know… it wasn't me?"

"You know the first part. Sophia had let it slip that she helped you to bed that night, like she did every night. If it were you, Blaise would have defended himself, fought you. He was used to your beating, wasn't he? With her, he didn't see it coming. It was a shock. He died partially from the wound, partly from the betrayal."

"I won't be drunk like that ever again," Pansy announced.

"I hope so. For your sake and for Draco's," Harry answered, although he doubted her. He knew she would get back to drinking, but didn't want to shatter her hope. They always got back to the drinking, even Aunt Petunia.

"Do you think he'll ever forgive me?" Pansy asked, hopeful.

Harry couldn't lie to her about that. He simply shrugged. He finished his coffee and the two separated. He was glad that he didn't need to explain the last detail Sophia had confessed to him when Pansy wasn't around. What Draco didn't know.

Sophia had stabbed Blaise from frustration because he had stopped her from killing Pansy.

As she had seen it, Blaise's weakness as well as her own miserable existence was because of Pansy. Pansy was unconscious on the sofa when Blaise had returned home. Sophia heard him crying in the sitting room. She went to comfort him, then fetched the knife and told him to stab Pansy. They would have explained it as a suicide.

She had even decided where to stab her and at what angle. When he refused, she snatched it back, but he stopped her, so she struck it to him out of frustration. She confessed to Harry that she had cast a Binding Curse on Zabini and then stabbed him in her anger.

She'd loved them both and felt very confused about her family. In the heat of the moment she'd come up with the idea of ending her misery, _their_ misery—by killing Pansy.

Harry at first thought about telling Draco the truth but then decided to spare him from the pain that his goddaughter had planned to kill Pansy but killed Blaise instead because after all this time, Blaise still loved Pansy and _protected _her.

Her murder nearly worked.

The neighbours heard the screams and assumed the worst of Blaise; no one could believe the young girl could have killed him. Just as they didn't realise it was Pansy who was the abuser in the family.

The abusers know how to hide it well. Harry had lived with them for nearly eleven years.

Harry stood under the fake Christmas tree in the shopping plaza and stared out at the jewellery store. On to another quest for the perfect ring.

Merlin, he needed a drink!

* * *

_**The End - Thanks For Reading!**  
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